


Death Glare Mini-Fics

by Animationfantic



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-01-18 12:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12387657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Animationfantic/pseuds/Animationfantic
Summary: A collection of Death Glare drabbles I've posted on Tumblr! Each chapter is its own story.





	1. Swamped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hater comes home covered in mud and Peepers' isn't impressed.

“Honestly, Hater, you’re worse than Tim.” Peepers gaped at the skeleton. He was covered from sneakers to horns in purple muck. It smelled horrible. 

Tim scuttled around Hater’s robe, panting happily. “It’s not my fault I fell in!” Hater grumbled. He peeled off one of his stained socks and tossed it to Captain Tim, who retreated happily into the closet with the sock clamped firmly in his jaws. 

With a nasty squelching noise, Hater sat beside Peepers and crossed his arms.

 _There goes the carpet,_ Peepers thought. Out loud he said, “What happened?”

Hater only grumbled. 

Peepers scowled. “Oh, no. No, no, no! Wander? Seriously?!”

Hater muttered. “Wouldn’t stop singing…”

“So you chased him and fell-” 

“Into a swamp, yeah.”

Peepers affectionately rolled his eye.

Hater yanked the helmet down over his boyfriend’s eye. “Shut up,” he growled, playfully. 

Peepers squeaked, half annoyed, half amused. “You know I hate it when you do that,” he said.

“And I hate being nagged,” Hater countered. “Look, I know I was stupid, but Wander is soooo annoying, Peeps! Ugh! He’s such a goody-good guy. Bleck! Makes me sick!”

Peepers only shook his eye. “I know, I know. But it might be nice, for once, if you’d just ignore him.”

Hater’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “But he’s…He’s my most despised- m-my most deadly-” Hater spluttered.

Peepers sighed. When he ranted, man, could Hater keep on going! But he also knew just how annoying Wander was, too. Peepers still had the bruises from his last fight with Sylvia.

“And he’s the only threat…” Hater kept shouting. 

“I’m sorry,” Peepers interrupted him, gently hugging Hater’s arm. “It’s not your fault, Hater. You just react. It’s who you are.”

Hater stopped ranting and pouted. “Hmph!”

Peepers gave his arm a little shake. “C'mon, frumpy. Tell me about the planet. Any good beaches? Real estate?” He wanted to change the subject. 

“Big and swampy,” Hater said after a minute. “No beach. Lots of creepy crawlers, a crazy witch doctor. The usual junk.” He gave the Watchdog a huge smile. “Mud was fun though.” And he swiped at Peepers with his free hand, covering his uniform in cold, wet slime. 

“Oh, gross!” Peepers shouted. The Commander jumped up. This wasn’t just mud. This was a super thick, icky, gloopy, purple mess!

Growling, he tackled Hater, bowling him over. Hater was laughing. “Not funny!” Peepers screeched. “You! Tub! Now!”

Still laughing, Hater trotted into the bathroom with Peepers hard on his heels. The Watchdog kicked the door shut behind them and angrily started the water. He kept muttering under his breath. “This was my good shirt…covered in mud…stupid Hater!”

Hater had already tossed his dirty clothes down the laundry chute. He was laughing. Peepers kept glaring at him. “This isn’t funny! I’m filthy!”

“Join the club,” Hater snorted as he climbed into the tub. Most of his ribs were stained purple.

Peepers threw his own uniform down the chute and scrambled into the water. “You did it on purpose,” he muttered. 

"Duh." Hater splashed him lightly. He was grinning. “I hate doing stuff alone. You know that! My problem is your problem!” Peepers giggled as Hater tickled him underwater. The Watchdog kicked and wriggled, breathless with laughter. 

“Admit it,” Hater said. “You love me.”

Peepers managed to splash Hater back. “Of course I do, stupid! You’re my big, bad skeleton man, and your problem is mine, too. Hold still so I can clean you up.”

The skeleton choked back a laugh. Peepers scrubbed at Hater’s ribs, cleaning off the mud. It took awhile. The stuff clung on so stubbornly. Hater leaned back and let him work, lightly splashing Peepers here and there.

Peepers finally stopped scrubbing.“Good to go, superstar.”

“You’re not. Hold still.” Hater lathered up and carefully cleaned the commander’s back. Peepers closed his eye. It felt so good. Hater’s touch was soft, gentle. He moved slow. Peepers knew that Hater was trying not to hurt him. The big bad skeleton was a big softie. He wouldn’t do any damage.

The water was nice and warm. Peepers began relaxing, and hummed along to Hater’s whispered theme song.

When they drained the tub, they both felt a lot better. _Nice not be smelly,_ Peepers thought. 

Hater roughly toweled himself off, shaking water from his horns. Peepers shielded his eye with an arm as water sprinkled everywhere. Hater stepped back. “My bad.”

“It’s all right,” Peepers assured him. “There’s nothing in my eye. And I’m still wet.”

Hater wrapped the Watchdog up in the fluffiest towel he could find. “You’re not going to bed soaking wet! Hang on, I’ve gotcha.”

He tenderly towel dried Peepers, who giggled every time Hater tickled him. “Stop squirming, Peeps,” Hater growled. “I missed a spot.” He planted a kiss on the top of Peepers’ head. Peepers squeaked and turned bright red.  Hater grinned at him. “Now you’re good!”

Hater yanked his pajama cloak on and started brushing his teeth. Peepers scrambled into his own pajamas. An old shirt of Hater’s that had shrunk in the wash and pair of sweats. 

Hater scooped him up. “Nice duds.”

Peepers grinned. “My favorite shirt. The greatest in the galaxy gave it to me.”

It was an old joke. Hater pulled a face of fake rage. “The greatest in the galaxy?! That’s impossible. I’m holding the greatest in the galaxy! That guy was a big fat liar! Who is he?! Lemme at him!” Hater pretended to box the air.

Peepers laughed and gave Hater a big hug. Hater hugged him back, growling affectionately.

Still holding Peepers, Hater clapped his hands to turn off the lights and collapsed backwards on the bed. Peepers snuggled down, his eye on Hater’s shoulder. “Night, superstar.” He kissed Hater softly, sweetly. 

Hater wrapped an arm around the Watchdog. “Cuddle time,” he mumbled.

Peepers snorted in exasperation. He nuzzled him lightly before laying his eye on Hater’s chest. Hater held him closer. “C'mere," he grunted. He sounded half-asleep. "I can’t rest unless you’re beside me.”

“I’m practically on top of you,” Peepers pointed out.

“Same thing,” Hater yawned.

Peepers chuckled as he scooted in as close as he could. “Next time, we chase Wander together, Hater,” he promised.

His eyes already closed, Hater grunted, “It’s a date.”


	2. Good-Night Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hater goes looking for Peepers.

“Whoo! Final level!” Hater jabbed at the controller clenched in his fist, his eyes glued to the screen. “Punch. Punch! I said punch, you stupid…”

Muttering furiously under his breath, Hater twisted around on the bed, not taking his eyes off the TV. “Up, up, down, left, up again, double kick and-”

A triumphant musical flourish announced his victory. Hater threw his arms up, sending the controller flying. “Yeah! Lord Hater, number one superstar! I beat the game. I beat the game! Yeah! Told ya I could, Peepers!” He stopped celebrating. “Peepers?”

He wasn’t there. His side of the bed hadn’t been touched. The sheets weren’t rumpled, the pillow still stiff. “Peepers?”

No reply. Hater switched the TV off and heaved himself up. He checked the bathroom. No Peepers. He looked in the closet, and even under the bed. Still nothing.

“Huh. He didn’t come up.” Annoyance bubbled up in his chest. “He didn’t even say good night!”

Hater stomped flat-footed down the hall. “Stupid Peepers…no kiss? Man, that’s the last time he gets away with this!”

The carpet tickled his bare feet. Hater poked his head into the communal kitchen. The lights were dimmed. The coffee maker had been unplugged. Hater inspected the coffee pot. The little amount still inside swished unpleasantly against the glass. 

Hater wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. How can he drink this?”

He gave the dark brew an experimental sniff and recoiled. It was stone cold. This stuff hadn’t been touched in hours. 

_Oh, gross!_

Hater smiled. It was obvious whose coffee this was. Nobody else on the Skullship drank this brand. It was bitter and black and tasted like grit. Peepers loved the stuff. He drank it by the gallon.

Hater dumped the brackish brew down the sink and left the kitchen. “Nasty stuff,” he muttered. “OK, where are you, Peeps?”

All the conference rooms were empty. And the library was dark. Worry gnawed at him. “Where are you?”

A high-pitched, exasperated groan brought him up short.

 _Of course!_ Hater followed the sound down the hall, right to…

“His old room?” Hater winced. Peepers usually stayed clear of this part of the ship. He hadn’t been in his room in months. All his annoyance dissolved in a wave of fear. _Did I do something to upset him?_

Hater knocked on the door. “Peepers?” he called cautiously. “You in there?”

The door wasn’t locked, so Hater let himself in. Peepers wasn’t alone. Captain Tim was there, too, curled up on Peepers’ cot. He raised his head and let out a welcoming purr. The room seemed smaller somehow. Hater sat on the bed, scratching Tim under the chin. Peepers had his back to the door. His uniform sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he had his eye in both hands.

Hater cleared his throat. Peepers jumped. “Oh, hey,” he said blankly. “Sorry, didn’t here you come in.”

Peepers looked terrible. His eye was dilated and bloodshot. The pen in his hand was battered and oozing ink from all the times the Commander had banged it on his desk. A mug of cold coffee sat untouched at his elbow.

“Been busy?” Hater asked. “Peepers, what are you doing in here?”

The Watchdog rubbed his eye. “Drawing up invasion plans. We’re way behind schedule.”

Hater examined a scrap of paper covered in complicated scribbles. “Looks good to me,” he said. “But can’t this stuff wait?”

Peepers ignored him. “That’s only the beginning. The budget needs some attention, too,” he mumbled around a huge yawn.

“We have accountants for that,” Hater pointed out. “You can’t do everything. Peeps, come on. You’re exhausted. Take it easy.” 

Peepers couldn’t reply. He yawned again, louder this time. Very gently, Hater kneaded his boyfriend’s back. Every tendon his fingers brushed was knotted and tight.

“Man, are you tense,” he muttered. Hater applied a bit more pressure and Peepers sighed contentedly. “What are you really doing in here, buddy?” Hater asked him quietly. “I haven’t…did I do something? Is that why you’re hiding in here?” His voice dropped to a tense whisper.

“What? No, of course not!” Peepers sounded shocked. “Oh, Hater, I’m not angry at you. I just came in here to do a little work.”

Hater heaved a sigh of relief. “Good!”

“Why’d you come looking for me anyway?” Peepers asked sleepily.

“Because I didn’t get my good night kiss,” Hater grumbled. “And…I was worried…” He stopped rubbing Peepers’ back and wrapped an arm around the Watchdog, hugging him from behind. “I love you, Peepers.”

“I love you, too, Hater,” Peepers said, and nuzzled Hater under the jaw.

His heart fluttered at the warmth in Peepers’ eye. “You coming to bed?”

“After I,” Peepers broke off to yawn, “after I finish up here.”

“I don’t think so, Peepers,” Hater said. “You’re too tired to be doing this. You’re coming with me, whether you like it or not.”

“I’m not sleepy, Hater, really,” Peepers mumbled. “I just need to finish a few things…”

Hater shook his head. “Oh, no. A ‘few things’ is three cups of that nasty coffee ago. All this,” he indicated the mess of papers, “is going to wait. It’s bedtime. That’s an order.”

Peepers started to argue, but Hater shushed him. “No. I don’t wanna hear it. You’re comin’ to bed. Come on, let’s go.”

The Watchdog sighed, but allowed Hater to pick him up. “What am I gonna do with you?” Hater teased him. “Curfew?”

Peepers laughed. “Very funny.”

“I’m serious,” Hater said. “You keep this up and you’re gonna be burnt out and even crankier than usual.”

Hater rested his forehead against Peepers’ eyelid. “I love you, baby boy. I’m putting my foot down. No more all-nighters. You ain’t touching any paperwork until you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

“But I’m supposed to take care of you,” Peepers said, breaking off to yawn again.

“Not this time,” Hater murmured, kissing Peepers. “Shut up and relax for once. You’re a workaholic.”

Safely under the blankets, Peepers curled up on Hater’s chest. His soft, familiar weight brought a smile to Hater’s skull. “Hater?”

“Yeah, Peeps?”

“Thanks for coming to get me,” Peepers said. He reached up and kissed Hater lightly on the cheek. “Night, big fella. I love you."

Hater smiled. “Sweet dreams, baby boy.”


	3. The Dentist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hater needs a tooth pulled.

The dentist’s office smelled like antiseptic and artificial cleaners. Hater rubbed a hand over his swollen jaw as Peepers filled out the paperwork.

The smiling nurse took the clipboard back and directed them to the waiting room with the expected phrase. “We will be with you shortly.”

Peepers shuddered. The forced positivity was enough to make you scream. Hater slouched in one of the uncomfortable chairs, still rubbing his jaw. Peepers clambered into the chair beside him and tried to read one of the magazines scattered over the coffee table.

No good. He was too worried.

“Do I have to?” Hater groaned.

Peepers sighed heavily. “Yes, you do. It’s just the dentist, stop whining.”

“Easy for you to say! You don’t even have teeth!” Hater muttered, just loud enough for his boyfriend to hear him.

Peepers rolled his eye. “Don’t pull that, you know it doesn’t work. My lack of molars is not the problem here. You need to get that tooth pulled, end of discussion.”

Hater rested his head back on his seat and let out a loud grunt. “Uhhhhhh…”

“Stop that!” Peepers snapped.

“I don’t wannnaaaa…”

 _I’m dating a nutjob,_ Peepers told himself. 

Hater kept groaning, a prolonged, raspy sound that would’ve made a lesser alien cave in. But Peepers was used to it. “Hater, stop it. You’re going to the dentist if I have to drag you in there myself,” he said, and slapped the magazine down.

Hater stoped grumbling and sat in huffy silence, his arms folded across his chest.

Peepers tried soothe him, keeping his voice low and gentle. “Come on, I promise it’ll be over quick. That tooth needs to come out, it’s been infected for a week. You’re uncomfortable, and we both know it. I hate seeing you in pain. It breaks my heart, big guy.”

The plea in his voice seemed to do the trick. Hater pressed his forehead to Peepers’ eyelid, and Peepers nuzzled him fiercely. “Come on, I know you can do this. Who’s my big, bad electrical skeleton man?”

Hater growled affectionately. “I am.”

Their moment was broken when the nurse called Hater’s name from the reception desk.

Hater gave his hand a quick squeeze. “See you in a bit.”

A flutter of panic made Peepers jump to his feet. “Hater, wait!”

Before he could stop himself, Peepers ran into his boyfriend’s arms and kissed him. Hater hugged him tightly, and the Commander swallowed down the last of his worry. “I’m proud of you,” he breathed, “and I love you.”

“Love you, too, Peeps.” Hater stopped in the doorway, and blew him a kiss. Peepers pretended to catch it as the nurse escorted Hater into the office.

“Leave that gloopy-eyed space nomad out of this!” Peepers called after them. “I’m his emergency contact, no matter what he tells you!”

Hater chuckled, then doubled up, hissing in pain. He clapped a hand to his jaw, and Peepers winced.  _Ow, that’s gotta hurt!_

Peepers left his seat and started pacing. Up and down the carpeted hall. His boots made muffled clomping noises as he dragged his feet.  _Ugh. This carpet’s ugly,_ he told himself. _Who thought a mustard yellow would look good next to coral-pink wallpaper?_

Back and forth, back and forth. His heartbeats echoed painfully in his chest. He’s been in there almost half and hour.

The nurse slipped back behind the desk. Peepers jumped, surprised. She sat down and started stapling papers with indecent calmness.  _That’s my man in that chair, and you’re making packets?!_

Peepers felt like punching something. Her lack of emotion made his skin crawl. “This won’t take too long, will it?” he demanded.

The nurse didn’t hesitate. “It shouldn’t be much longer. The doctor is examining the x-rays as we speak.”

Peepers bit back a snarl. _It shouldn’t take this long to take pictures of an infected tooth!_

He stated pacing again, stomping along the same path as before. The hallway seemed to have gotten narrower in the past few seconds. Had the walls always been this close together?

His thoughts were racing now, one after another, and panic was clawing at his heart and the blood in his veins was ice.

_They would’ve said something._

_Stop panicking, he’s fine!_

_I don’t hear him!_

_They know what they’re doing._

_Please let him be all right!_

_He’s tough, he’s a fighter._

_Dear Grop, please be ok!_

_Hater, if they’re hurting you!_

_This is my fault! I made him come to the dentist!_

_He’ll be fine._

_What have I done?!_

“Mister Peepers?”

Peepers flinched. “What?!”

The nurse was smiling. Peepers fought to control his breathing.  _She’s happy. Is that good?_

“He’s fine. You can see him now.”

Peepers bolted for the office door before she could say anything else. _Please be alive, please don’t be hurt. I’ll never forgive myself if they’ve hurt you!_

The dentist glanced up as Peepers hurled himself into the room. “Ah, yes. You must be the emergency-”

“Hater!”

For a second, Peepers couldn’t breathe. Hater was slumped over, his mouth sagging open. A wad of stained gauze had fallen out of his mouth. It reeked of blood. Peepers struggled to think. He stared at his boyfriend, chest having and his palms drenched in sweat. Then Hater’s eyelid twitched. Peepers heaved a sigh. _He’s alive. Thank Grop!_

“It was a simple procedure,” the dentist commented. “He didn’t need anesthetic. No, he just conked right out.”

Peepers latched onto Hater’s glove. “You mean he fainted?”

The dentist shook his head. “I think he just fell asleep. He’s been snoring for a good few minutes.”

Hater grunted drowsily, smacking his lips.

 _I’ve been worried out of my mind and he’s fast asleep. I’m gonna kill him._ “So what’s the treatment plan?” Peepers asked.

“No solid food for a few days, have him rinse with salt water to keep the area clean. And make sure he gets a lot of rest, that’s a big one.” The dentist examined the chart in his hands. “Oh, yes. That tooth should grow back within a week or so, it’s a common thing in his species. But until it does, lots of liquids and lots of rest.”

_Simple enough._

Peepers gently shook Hater awake. “Hey, sleepyhead. Let’s get you home.”

Hater’s eyes were glazed, his movements slow. “Time already…” He managed to stand, leaning heavily on Peepers. “My mouth feels weird…”

Peepers nudged him gently out the door, past the receptionist and up the Skullship’s tongue. “That’s it. Come on.”

Each step they took down to the bedroom felt like balm to Peepers’ soul. _It’s OK, I’ve got him, he’s home. It’s all gonna be all right._

Hater flumped down on the bed, face-first into a mound of pillows. Peepers hastily rolled him onto his side. “Hater, come on, look at me.”

Hater’s expression had cleared a bit. He pushed his nose into Peepers’ shoulder, a deep chuckle rumbling up from the depths of his throat. “Try not to look so worried, baby boy,“ he said. "Your eye might stick like that.”

Peepers swallowed a sob. “You’re OK!”

“Course I am,” Hater mumbled sleepily. “I’m your big, bad electrical skeleton man.”

Peepers wound himself around Hater’s neck, holding him close. “I knew you’d pull though. You hungry?”

Hater grunted croakily as Peepers released him.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Peepers chuckled. “OK, how bout a milkshake?”

“Chocolate,” Hater croaked. Peepers raised an eyelid. “Please?” Hater amended.

The Commander leaned in and kissed his skeleton’s cheek. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

Hater laid back down with a sigh that made Peepers’ stomach flutter. The Commander made a heart with his fingers as he backed out the door. Peepers moved quickly, pouring a mix of milk and liquid chocolate into the blender. He let it run for a few seconds while he pulled out whipped cream and the cherry jar. Peepers poured the milkshake into a tall glass and added two straws. He topped it off with a quick crown of whipped cream and a couple cherries.

Peepers ran as fast as he could back to the room without spilling it. “You awake?” he called. A sleepy grunt answered him. Peepers rubbed Hater’s cheek with a free hand. “You feeling any better?”

Hater eyed him coolly. “I’m missing a tooth.”

Peepers winced. “Hater…”

“It was ripped outta my mouth. Pop. Gone. Bye-bye, tooth.” Hater waved a hand lazily in the air.

A wave of hot shame raised the hairs on Peepers’ arms. _I did this…_

“Hater, I’m sorry!”

The warmth in Hater’s expression eased the guilt churning in his belly. “Easy, baby boy. Easy. That tooth needed to come out anyway. You shoulda seen it, Peepers. It was all brown and nasty-looking.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it’s not,” Peepers said.

Hater headbutted him, and Peepers almost dropped the milkshake. “I’m trying to say thank you,” Hater chuckled. “How many times do you need to be reminded? I was wrong, and you were right. Happy?”

The Commander nuzzled Hater gently, careful not to irritate his swollen jaw. “I’m just glad you’re doing better,” he whispered. “Move over, you need to drink this before it gets all melted and soupy.”

Hater lifted an arm, allowing Peepers to squeeze in next to him on the mattress. The Watchdog nestled down, propping the milkshake between them. Hater latched onto the bigger straw and started sucking. Peepers took small, slow sips from his own straw. Even he had to admit that this thing was good. Thick and chocolatey, with just the right ratio of whipped cream to milk. Once the last drop had been sucked down, Peepers popped the glass on the nightstand next to the bed. Hater was half asleep, his eyelids dropping.

Peepers tucked him in, pulling the comforter up to his bony chin. “Get some sleep, big guy. I’ve gotcha.”

Hater grumbled something indistinct as he burrowed down. Peepers held onto him, rocking him and humming under his breath until the skeleton was finally asleep. “Love you,” Peepers whispered as he kissed his boyfriend’s cheek.


	4. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hater and Peepers have different movie opinions.

“Alien Zombie Apocalypse?” Peepers groaned. “You picked a horror movie?”

Hater pulled the snack bowl into his lap. “Sure did.” He flicked a piece of popcorn at the Commander. “What’s the matter? You scared?”

“Shut up!” Peepers threw a pillow at him. “I am not!” Peepers sat beside Hater on the bed. Above them, the TV screen blinked to life.

“Oh, yeah! Here we go!”

Peepers had to admit, even for a horror flick, this thing was _bad_. Weak storyline. Terrible acting. 

“Grop!” Peepers swore loudly as a geyser of blood flew across the screen. “That’s disgusting!”

“Meh. I’m telling you, Peeps, it ain’t all that scary.” Hater crammed another fistful of popcorn into his mouth.

Peepers shuddered. “It’s gross!” He snapped his eye shut. “I hate this!”

Popcorn flew everywhere as Hater laughed. “Seriously?! Oh, Peepers, you gotta see this. That guy is totally butchering the other guy.” 

Peepers didn’t look up. He pressed himself even closer to Hater’s side. The sound of a revving chainsaw and the splatter of body fluids was way, way too much.  _This is the last time I let him pick the movie!_

“You’re missing it!” Hater crowed. “Oh ho, man. Did you see that?”

Peepers didn’t reply. He scrambled under the covers, curling into the fetal position. So much gore. So much blood. So much death. Suddenly, the room went quiet.

“Peepers?” Hater sounded concerned. He peeled back the covers. “Peepers, what’s up?”

Peepers was trembling. “Is it over yet?”

Hater wrapped him up in a massive bear hug. For a second, they sat quietly together. Peepers snuggled deep in the cloak. Hater rocked him, half-whispering words of comfort. “It’s all right. I’ve gotcha. I’m here, buddy. It’s all gonna be OK.”

He spoke soothingly. Peepers allowed his muscles to unclench. Resting his eye on Hater’s chest, he drew silent comfort from the soft embrace. “You know I hate horror movies," he muttered. 

“I forgot,” Hater admitted. Peepers pulled back to glare at him. Hater shifted guiltily. “OK, OK, I remembered. But, come on, Peeps, everyone loves a good scary movie!”

Peepers grumbled angrily. Pushing back, he writhed to get loose. “If you’re gonna pull pranks like that, I’m sleeping on the couch.” He hopped off the bed.

“Hang on!” Hater yelled. A ball of green light pulled the Watchdog back toward the bed. The lightning fizzed out at flick of Hater’s gloved hand. “Do you want me to apologize?” Hater teased him.

Peepers scowled. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“I’ll make it sound sincere,” Hater wagged his bony eyebrows. Peepers humphed, crossed his arms and turned away. 

He yelped as Hater swept him up. Caught in his arms, Peepers couldn’t escape Hater’s storm of kisses. He laughed and tried to catch his breath.

“I’m sor…reeee….” Hater whispered between pecks.

Completely winded, Peepers gave up and kissed him back. “Close enough,” he wheezed. 

Hater’s jaw split in a wide grin. “Now, back to the movie!”

Peepers blanched. Hater laughed and nuzzled him. “I’m joking! We’re gonna watch something else. Learn to laugh, Peepers.”

Peepers grumbled as Hater set him down. “What about _Happy Blorgons_? That’s not scary.”

“Ugh, no!” Hater pulled a face. “Ooh, ooh, ooh! _Return of the Plant People_!”

Peepers rolled his eye. “That’s not a movie, that’s torture on a disc.”

Hater scratched the back of his neck, thinking. “Cartoons?”

Peepers sighed, but affectionately. “Cartoons,” he agreed.

Even he couldn’t stop a smile from breaking out across his eye. Hater beamed and eagerly jammed the disc into the player. He was almost jumping for joy. 

The screen blinked. Overbright and pixelated, the movie started up. “In the far distant future…” The narration began. 

“A lost civilization will rise again,” Hater shouted.

Peepers snorted as he chimed in, too. “With their outdated technology to rule the galaxy with an iron fist.”

“ _The Old Timerz_!” They collapsed against each other, sobbing with laughter.

The next two hours were spent in joyful chaos. Hater splaying popcorn everywhere as he laughed, Peepers curled up beside him. The animation was close to terrible. The sound was too loud and out-of-sync with the picture. It was a nerd’s paradise. All too soon, the final credits were rolling.

“Awwww, man!” Hater griped. “It’s over?!”

“No, it’s only the beginning,” Peepers said sarcastically. He hit the power button on the remote, and the screen went black. 

“Let’s watch it again!”

“No.” Peepers yawned.

“Come ooooonnnnnn!” Hater started bouncing on the bed. “Just one more time.”

“Hater, no!” Peepers grunted. “It’s late.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Go to sleep, Hater.”

“Ughhhh. Fine!” Hater flopped onto his pillows. “You’re such a downer!”

Peepers yawned again. “Shut up and go to sleep.” His eye drooped as he settled down on his own side of their bed. A second later, he felt the blankets being pulled up to his eye. Hater tucked him in, very gently. The soft touch soothed the last of his nerves. Peepers sighed happily. Hater clapped his hands and the lights instantly dimmed. Wonderful silence filled the room. Hater’s reassuring bulk pressed against him as Peepers closed his eye.

“Peeps?” Hater’s voice carried through the darkness. 

“Mmm?”

“Love you.” A gloved hand pulled the Watchdog in close. Peepers latched onto Hater’s cloak, enjoying the familiar warmth of the skeleton. Hater cradled him, already half-asleep himself.

Peepers’ voice was full of sleepy affection. “Love you, too, sir.”


	5. Sandwiches and Scrapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An uninvited guest drops by during lunchtime.

“There.”

Hater stepped back to review his handiwork. A footlong sub, bread slightly toasted, no mayo, extra pickles and dripping with imported mustard. (Peepers’ condiment of choice.) Hater didn’t have a clue what was inside the sandwich. It was a mishmash of leftovers stashed in the fridge. _Maybe some bacon? Umm, lettuce?_ He screwed up his face in concentration, then gave up.

Whatever. It looked edible. Kinda.

“Which chips?”

Hater glanced up. Peepers was above him, balancing on top of the fridge. “Barbecue,” Hater said.

“Sour cream and onion it is,” Peepers said, grinning mischievously.

Hater gaped. “Oh, what? No! Gross! That’s, like, the diet soda of chips! Don’t you dare!”

The Watchdog leapt lightly down into Hater’s waiting arms. Hater caught him easily. He pulled a face. Peepers held out a bag of barbecue chips. “You little-”

Peepers laughed, giving Hater a one-armed squeeze. Hater felt his face get hot. It felt so weird to have all this kind of unbiased, open affection showered upon him. Not that it bothered him. It was a wonderful thing.

“You’re making that face again.”

Peepers’ voice brought him back. Hater grinned guiltily. “I’m just…it’s so…” Peepers waited patiently.

“I’m the luckiest guy alive,” Hater blurted out. “I have you, I mean, you h-have me. Um…u-us together.”

His face went green. Grop! Why was it so hard to talk about his feelings? Peepers just smiled, snuggling down and munching on some sandwich. Hater crammed some into his own mouth, just to have something to do. It wasn’t bad. And there was bacon under the mustard and slightly wilted lettuce. Hater clumsily licked chip dust off his gloves, still bright green.

Peepers wordlessly nuzzled Hater’s neck. Hater cradled him close. The familiar weight of his favorite Watchdog made him so happy, he couldn’t breathe. Heart swelling, Hater allowed himself to sink into blissful silence. Nothing else mattered. It was beyond incredible that Peepers didn’t need words. He got Hater. Really got him. Unspoken affection was the greatest gift of all.

Alarms started blaring. All around them, metallic clangs announced that the Skullship was going into total lockdown. Hater almost dropped Peepers as he thundered out of the kitchen and into the main hall.

Deafening techno music shook the walls. Watchdogs were all over the place, wrestling and fleeing from Fist Fighters. Above all the clamor, someone was beat boxing. And badly. Like, really badly.

Hater roared like an angry bull.  _Again with fish-boy?!_

“Awesome!”

Awesome puffed out his chest. “Yo, Hatey! You like the jams? So, this is kinda short notice or whatever, but I’m using your ship as party central. ‘Kay?” He winked obscenely. Peepers hissed. Hater noticed movement at the edge of his peripheral vision. He didn’t hesitate.

“Peepers, get down!”

Hater threw Peepers behind him just in time. A mob of Fist Fighters engulfed him, forcing Hater to his knees. Shaking them off was pointless. They redoubled their tiny grips whenever Hater tried rolling away. Focusing his anger into his palms, Hater zapped at the cluster of bodies. One or two fell loose. 

_Close enough!_

The skeleton launched himself into the air, leaving the Fists in a smoking heap. 

 _Where’s Peepers?!_ He was gone. Hater looked around desperately, fear clawing at his chest. _Peepers, where are you?!_

Awesome was sashaying easily to the rhythm of his boombox, kicking the Watchdogs underfoot. “One and two, and back and forth.” He recited. “And three and four. Now stop and shimmy, shimmy, shimmy and thrust those hips like this!”

Peepers would be fine. But their uninvited visitors had to go. Hater curled his body into a dive, aiming for the dorsal fin, Awesome sidestepped at the last second. Bones clattered as Hater crashed into the opposite wall. With a loud pop, his jawbone came lose. It skittered across the floor as Awesome’s boot drove into his face. Hater gurgled, trying to suck in air.

Awesome leaned over him and drew back a fist, grinning. “You’re missing all the fun, dude!”

A blur of black smashed into Awesome’s side, driving him back. He heard Awesome’s angry squeal, then felt something tickle his face.

Hater shook his head dazedly. Someone was popping his loose jaw back into place. A small, wonderfully familiar someone. Hater pressed his forehead briefly to the hard helmet. “Thanks, Peeps!”

The small Watchdog bestowed a quick peck on Hater’s cheek before diving back into the action. Even in the thick of a fight, Peepers still made his stomach churn with butterflies.  _He’s the best!_

“Watchdogs,” Hater shouted. “Eyes up!”

For a heartbeat, the fighting ceased. Then his soldiers charged forward as one, their mantra drowning out the boombox. “Hate’s great, best villain! Hate’s great, best villain!” Hater flattened himself against the wall, going on tiptoes to avoid the retreating Fists. They stampeded past, leaving the hall empty.

_Oh, Grop, no!_

Hater’s bone marrow went cold. Awesome had Peepers pinned halfway up the wall, one hand clamped over his throat. The Watchdog spluttered, clawing feebly at the fist crushing his windpipe. Awesome leered. He pressed down harder. Peepers squeaked. A single tear fell from the corner of his eye. He was being throttled.

_“No!”_

Roaring, Hater forced Awesome off his feet in a crackling orb of green light. Peepers dropped to the floor in crumpled heap, twitching. Hater planted himself between Awesome and Peepers, his back to the Commander. Chest heaving, he pulled Awesome in close, until their noses touched. Awesome’s eyes were huge. Beads of sweat dripped down his snout.

“Leave!“ Hater hissed between clenched teeth.

He dropped his hand. Awesome hit the ground running. He fled, boots squeaking wildly. “Retreat! Everyone, back to the limo!”

Horn blaring, the limo sped off, leaving a set of burning tire tracks behind.The Watchdogs cheered. But Hater ignored them.

“Peepers!” He moaned. “Peeps, no…no, no, no.” He knelt beside the pitiful bundle. Underneath the shredded uniform, the Commander was beaten black and blue. Peepers looked terrible. Heart in his throat, Hater cradled his Watchdog. 

“You’d better live,” Hater croaked. “I-if you die, I’ll never forgive you.” A single tear fell down his bony cheek. “Please, Peepers, please be all right.” Hater kissed him. “Please be OK.”

A small crowd had formed around them. Hater screwed his eyes shut as they whispered behind their hands. “Peepers,” he begged, his lips barely moving. 

And under his cheek, Peepers moved. Hater’s shoulders sagged with relief. He pulled back and beamed at the Commander. Peepers blinked twice, his eye unfocused. “Did we win?”

Laughing at crying at the same time, Hater smothered him in kisses. Peepers cuddled him back. His small hands traced hearts all along Hater’s face. 

The Watchdogs heaved a group sigh of relief. A few clapped. Hater felt his face get warm. Their approval meant a lot, even if he was still a little embarrassed to show open affection. He smiled and, still holding Peepers, Hater half-ran to the infirmary. The doctors on call were already treating the casualties from the battle. A few had fallen asleep on hospital cots. Aside from a few bumps and bruises, the troops seemed just fine.Those still awake turned to stare at their overlord. 

Hater nodded tersely. “Well done, Watchdogs,“ he praised them.

The injured soldiers gaped at them.

Peepers laughed, still wrapped in the skeleton’s arms. “Feeling sentimental?” He teased. “It’s not like you to dish out positive reviews.”

Hater kissed him lightly. “You’re OK, and Awesome’s gone. They did well.” He frowned at his troops. “Don’t get smug! You guys did good this time!” Hater slipped behind a hospital screen. “I’m so glad you’re all right,” he whispered. Eye met bone as they nuzzled each other. 

Below them, someone coughed. “Lord Hater, we’d better, ah, examine…”

“Wha- oh. Oh, yeah. OK, Peeps, hang on.”

Hater carefully laid him down on an empty cot. Marty, one of the nurses, squeezed past Hater and snapped on a pair of latex gloves. 

The skeleton winced. “Don’t you dare hurt him!”

Peepers rolled his eye, but affectionately. "I’ll be fine. Hold my hand,” he offered, extending his arm.

Hater shifted uncomfortably as Marty went to work. This was not his turf. Beeping machines and needles. Eye masks and medical-type jargon. So he did what he did best; clung to Peepers and looked awkward.

Peepers stayed strong as Marty prodded and poked him. His grip on Hater’s fingers tightened only once, when Marty injected him with a vial of clear liquid. Hater bared his teeth. “Easy, you little quack! What's in that bag?!"

“It’s a light sedative, sir,” Marty said. “It’ll help him to sleep tonight.”

“I’m the worrier, Hatey,” Peepers said, his voice full of soft laughter. “Take it easy. I’m OK.”

The doctor’s prognosis was not good. It was great. Hater heaved a huge sigh of relief and sat down on the bed, clutching the Commander’s arm as the doctor reviewed a chart. “Some minor bruises, a scratch or two. I’ve applied a bit of antiseptic to the deepest ones, and that should be enough to stop any infection from spreading. No broken bones, although your ribs are sensitive. All you need is a good long rest, Commander. That sedative we gave you should help.”

Peepers stroked Hater’s thumb. “Thanks, Marty.”

Marty kept going. “I really think it would be best if you spent the night, for observational purp…“

"No!” Hater leapt up, his eyes glinting with panic. “No way! He’s coming with me, and that’s an order!”

Both Watchdogs blinked, then Marty backed off. You didn’t argue with Hater on stuff like this. Peepers chuckled.

Scooping him up in one hand, Hater stomped out of the infirmary, past the gaping troops. Hater carried Peepers off down the hall, muttering furiously. “I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he growled. “Can’t tell me what to do…'Stay overnight’… Stupid Marty!”

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Peepers said, half-laughing. “You just don’t want to sleep alone.” He twined himself around Hater’s neck and held on tight.

Hater felt his face get hot. His heart swelled as he kissed his Watchdog. “Shut up, Peepers.”


	6. Understanding Tim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After "The Search for Captain Tim" Peepers has a heart-to-heart with Tim about the one thing they have in common.

Hater almost skipped into his bedroom, humming under his breath. Captain Tim gnawed affectionately on the skeleton's head, purring between nips. "Welcome home, Tim-Tim. Who's my good boy? You are. You are!"

Peepers followed more slowly. He hung back as Tim jumped on their bed. Peepers shuddered. "Hater, don't let him on the bed, he's covered in acid!"

Hater was too busy wrestling with Tim to hear. Purring and growling, Tim scuttled across the mattress. Hater swiped at him, missing on purpose. If Tim wasn't so terrifying, it would've been cute. Seeing his big guy giggling and play fighting always made the Commander smile. Tim, on other hand...

"My Tim-Tim saved his daddy, yes he did, yes he did!" Hater gushed.

Tim screeched in what sounded like agreement. It was hard to tell.

Peepers bit back a sigh. The Watchdogs had thrown a huge party when Tim went missing. For once, Peepers was enjoying the time with his troops. Punch. Bowls of chips. Every barbecue sauce the scientists had created. And a conga line that ran down two hallways. As always, Peepers' conscience had bested him. Hater was his world. Peepers didn't much care for Tim, but his love for Hater would always outweigh his dislike of the spider. In the middle of the conga line, Peepers had dropped out, grabbed a planetary conquering drill, and flown off to find his boyfriend and their terrifying pet.

Peepers perched nervously on his side of the bed, knees tucked close to his chest. Tim stopped playing and hissed at Peepers.

"Oh, you must be hungry," Hater cooed. "You want something, Peepers?"

Peepers shrugged. "Sure, I could eat."

"Be right back," Hater said, ruffling Tim's head.

"Where are you going?" Peepers yelped.

Hater stopped in the doorway. "I'm gonna grab some toquitos. I'm starving!"

Peepers reached for him. "Hater, wait! Don't leave-" The door slammed. "-me alone with Tim."

 _Typical._ Peepers heaved a sigh.  _Alone with the spider._

The Arachnomorph hissed. Peepers shifted nervously. "No, Tim, stay away," he said firmly. Tim hissed again. Peepers kept his eye on the door. "Hater!"

No good.

Tim moved in close. Uncomfortably close. His lips were drawn back in a snarl. Peepers couldn't think. His mind had gone blank. "Look, Tim," Peepers blurted out. "You don't like me, and I'm terrified of you."

Tim hesitated, cocking his head on one side. Peepers kept babbling. "I'm not gonna lie. I was glad you disappeared today." Tim growled dangerously. Peepers shouted over him. "Lemme finish, lemme finish! You didn't see him, Tim. Hater, he was devastated! I've never seen him so upset. Well, I have, but that's not the point! I finally understand how much he cares. He loves you."

Peepers stared right at Tim. "And we both love Hater. He's the most important thing in my life. And if he can't live without you, I won't either."

Tim paused. Peepers waited, holding his breath. Then Tim nuzzled him. Very hesitantly, Peepers scratched him. The fur was surprisingly fluffy, if a little prickly. A soft rumbling sound rose from the back of Tim's throat. He was purring. Peepers relaxed. "Huh. You're not so bad," he murmured, still stroking the spider.

"Aww!" Hater was back. He stood in the doorway, a plate in his hands. "I knew you cared!" He jumped into bed, wrapping both Watchdog and Arachnomorph in a tight hug. "Gotcha, Peepers! You love Tim-Tim, you love Tim-Tim!"

Peepers started laughing. He stood on tiptoe and kissed Hater's cheek. "If you tell anyone, I swear I'll deny it!" he teased.

Hater pushed his forehead to Peepers' eyelid. "Whatever. You're friends now. That's all I care about!" He nuzzled Peepers. Softly, reassuringly. "My boys." He covered them both in soft, slobbery kisses. Peepers giggled. Tim panted happily, covering skeleton and Watchdog in drool.

That night, after they'd feasted on toquitos, played fetch and watched Hater play video games, Peepers was ready for bed. The lights were off. The room was quiet. Peepers snuggled down under the covers. He was warm, and Hater was right there.

The Watchdog closed his eye. "Where's Tim?" he asked sleepily.

"I though you didn't like him," Hater rumbled, his voice full of affection.

"I'm opening my mind to a possible alliance."

"Which is nerd-speak for 'I love Tim-Tim,'" Hater said.

As if on cue, a small, wriggling weight scuttled up the covers and dropped something down the back of the Commander's pajamas. "What the-" Peepers writhed, trying to grab whatever it was. Hater held him fast, gently slipping his hand down until he found something. He started to laugh."What is it?" Peepers demanded.

Hater held out a small orange chew toy, drenched in slobber and covered in serrated teeth marks. "Aww! Tim gave you a present, Peeps! It's his favorite squeaky-beeby! Good boy, Tim!" Hater cooed.

Peepers rolled his eye, trying to hide a smile. Tim crouched on the pillow, panting happily. A wave of pure affection flooded the Watchdog. "Attaboy," he said.

Peepers scratched his new pet under the chin. There was no doubt about it. Tim wasn't so bad after all. This time, Peepers and Tim converged on Hater. Tim licked his bony face as Peepers kissed his skeleton over and over.

Still laughing, Hater cradled Peepers close to his chest. "Mmm, my boys, my sweet, brave boys..."

Tim circled around and curled up beside Peepers on the pillow. Hater tightened his grip on his Commander. And Peepers smiled to himself, caught in a web of spiders and skeletons and all the love that came with it.


	7. Potential

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before "The End of the Galaxy" Peepers boosts Hater's confidence.

Peepers waited, hands behind his back, as the last few lights in the Skullship went out. It was late. Even in space, where everything was already dark, it was time for sleep. He yawned and stretched. Another long day.

"Goodnight, sir," several of the crew called as they passed him in the hall.

"Night," Peepers replied. Weariness slumped his shoulders forward until he was bent double. The walk to Hater's room seem to take forever.

Peepers pushed the door shut and slid down, eye drooping.  _Bed,_ he kept thinking. _Bed. Bed. Sleep._

"Hater?" he called.

Hater wasn't there. The room was deserted. Tim was fast asleep in his basket by the door. The usual piles of dirty clothes, magazines and candy wrappers littered the floor.

 _How many times does he have to be told to pick up after himself?_ Peepers yawned again. _I'll deal with it tomorrow._

At least he'd have some quiet. He showered quickly, pulled on his pajamas and crawled into bed.

Still no sign of Hater. A flicker of worry wormed inside Peepers. He swallowed it down.

Out loud, Peepers said, "He's an electrical skeleton man. He can take care of himself."

It didn't help. He lay in bed for almost an hour. The absence of Hater made sleep impossible. Without him, the bed felt too big. Peepers tossed and turned for a few more minutes, then gave up.

"Tim," he said, nudging the spider with his toe. "Tim, wake up."

Tim hissed, curling away from Peepers.

Peepers rolled his eye. _How does Hater do this?!_

"Let's go walkies, Tim," he cooed. "Let's go find Daddy."

Tim shot up, circling excitedly around Peepers' ankles. Peepers clipped the leash to Tim's spiked collar. It wasn't easy. The spider kept moving. "OK, Tim, let's go!"

Peepers yelped as Tim dragged him down the hall. _Stupid spider!_

Tim scuttled along, hot on the trail. Peepers slid behind, clinging tight to the leash. Tim stopped abruptly, and the Watchdog tripped. Peepers picked himself up, grumbling. "Tim, you little...Why'd you...?"

He stopped talking when he realized where they were.  _The control room? What?_

All the lights were out. Peepers crept inside. There he was. Sitting on the floor and staring out the window.

Peepers heaved a sigh of relief. "Hater, thank Grop!"

Tim scuttled over to Hater, panting happily. Hater automatically stroked him. "Hey, Peeps," Hater said, not turning around. His voice was flat. Defeated.

Peepers hurried over to him. The skeleton had his pink blanket pulled over his face. Hater was hugging his knees.

"Hater, honey," Peepers begged, "talk to me." He sat beside Hater, pressing in close. Hater sighed heavily, still facing the window. He didn't say anything, so Peepers nuzzled his shoulder, trying to comfort him. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Dominator, I dunno, just keep thinking she's gonna win," Hater mumbled.

"Hater."

"She's too good! Ahh! I'm never gonna beat her!"

"Hater."

"She's totally gonna take over!"

"Hater."

"Dominator's gonna be the greatest in the galaxy!"

"Hater!" Peepers shouted. "That's enough!"

His shout echoed around the empty room. Tim growled softly. Peepers climbed into Hater's lap, holding his bony face in his hands. "She's not gonna win. You're the greatest in the galaxy! Not her! Stop beating yourself up over this!"

Hater didn't meet his eye. "I'm not good enough to stop her, Peepers."

Anger flared in the Watchdog's belly. At the same time, his heart twisted in sorrow.

"Hater, stop it. You're more than strong enough to take her down. Hater, look at me!" His voice cracked. "Don't talk like that. You're Lord flarpin' Hater! Don't you dare give up on yourself! I know you can win."

Hater didn't look up. "How do you know?"

"Because I'm smart enough to see what you're too stupid to realize yourself," Peepers retorted.

"Yeah?" Hater sounded skeptical. "What's that?"

"Your potential, stupid."

Hater blinked. "Poten...what?" He shook his head.

"I don't just see what you can do, Hater, I see you for what you are now," Peepers murmured. "And I didn't fall in love with the alien you could be. I fell in love with you, the way you are."

"And you think I really have what it takes to stop Dominator?" Hater asked skeptically.

"I don't think that. I know that."

Hater heaved a shuddering sigh. His shoulders slumped. "Peepers, she's impossible."

"So was Wander!" Peepers snapped. "Remember? Those first few months were torture! But look at what you've done, working with him and that stupid Zbornak!"

Hater refused to look at him. Peepers bristled, half-annoyed, half-heartbroken. "For Glorn's sake, we brought a robot to life!" Peepers screeched. "A flarping robot! Remember teaming up to ask that witch out? Musical, Hater!" Peepers reminded him. "And who did all that?!"

Hater didn't react, so Peepers went on. "I'll tell ya who! It was you! Lord Hater, the Duke of Destruction, the Monarch of Mayhem, the Emperor of Evil," Peepers bellowed. "The Greatest in the Galaxy!"

Hater didn't react. He didn't look up or turn around. 

The Watchdog slumped. A hot tear ran down his retina. His voice cracked. "It was all you," he said. "My Hater." Peepers wormed his way into Hater's lap and pressed his eye into Hater's ribcage. He drew in the warm, familiar scent of the skeleton he loved. "And if you can do all that, there's nothing you can't do," Peepers whispered into the cloak. "I can see it. Why can't you?"

"Why are you so convinced I can take her down, Peepers?" Hater asked in a hollow voice.

"Because I know you," Peepers said. "And because I love you, Hater."

Peepers felt Hater stir. Two massive arms pulled him into a tight hug. Peepers nuzzled Hater's jaw, holding him until it hurt. "I can't beat her alone, Peepers."

"You're not alone, Hater. You have the Watchdogs, you have Wander." Bile rise in his throat as he said it.

Hater hugged him tighter. "And you."

"Of course," Peepers assured him. "I've stuck it out this long. No turning back now. Win or lose, I'm with you."

"What if we lose?" Hater fretted in a low voice.

"That won't happen," Peepers decided. "We're not gonna lose."

Hater snorted. "And how do you know that?"

"Because I've got you," Peepers told him.

This time, Hater laughed out loud. Peepers felt a smile tugging at his eyelid. Hater snorted and sniffled, but headbutted Peepers and nuzzled him gratefully. "Aye aye, Commander Peepers," he said between laughs.

Peepers exhaled a sigh of relief. Hater was back on track! He kissed Hater's cheek. "Finally," he breathed. "I promise, babe, it'll all be OK. We'll save our galaxy yet."

"So we can conquer it later!" Hater growled deep in his throat.

"Attaboy!" Peepers cheered him. "Trust me, Hater. You can beat her."

Hater met his eye. "You're wrong, Peepers."

The Watchdog felt his stomach drop.

"We're gonna beat her, together," Hater said, with the same grit and determination that made him the #1 villain of the galaxy. And the #1 villain of Peepers' heart.

Relieved, Peepers gave him a big kiss. “That’s right, Hater. We’re gonna win. We’re gonna finish this just how we started it. Together.”


	8. Anti-Dom Con

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hater goes to a meeting.

Hater propped his skull up on his elbows and tried not to fall asleep. Jeez, how long was this stupid meeting gonna take?! The conference room was small and windowless. Even the air seemed dull. Hater shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The villains were crammed shoulder to shoulder at a table way too big for the space. Each tick of the clock echoed loudly in the overlord's head. Hater drummed his fingers on the tabletop, still-half asleep. Sourdough was yakking about the palpable impact of Dominator's galactic conquest. How her ever-looming threat was approaching the insurmountable. Or something like that.

What a letdown. Every villain in the galaxy was here at Anti-Dom Con, a bad guy-only convention dedicated to stopping Lord Dominator. At least, that's what the leaflets had said. He should've known better. What'd seemed like a fun little get together had turned into a week full of meetings and lectures. And really bad complimentary breakfasts. 

 

Hater let his mind wander. 

He'd been sitting up in bed with Peepers, checking SpaceFace, when the email had popped up. An invite to this meeting.

Peepers had begged him not to go. He'd paced and nagged and even cried. "It's stupid! A huge gathering like that, you'll all be sitting targets!"

"It'll be fine, C-Peeps," Hater had promised. "I'll be back tomorrow night. Gimme a kiss, I'm gonna be late."

Peepers had hugged him like never before. Hater remembered the fear in that big eye, and his stomach churned guiltily. One night. That's all this was supposed to be. But one night had turned into a week.

_He's gonna kill me._

"And in conclusion," Sourdough said, "we must all remain vigilant to the danger of Lord Dominator."

"Huh?" Hater jerked up, wiping drool from his jaw.

Up and down the table, villains applauded.  _It's over!_

"Thank Grop!" Hater shouted.

Everyone trooped out, but Hater was first out the door. He dashed back to his hotel room, and stuffed everything he'd brought back into his suitcase. Plus, a few hotel towels as collateral.

Sourdough was just leaving the hall. Hater jumped over him. "Wow, what a great speech, thanks or whatever. Hater out!"

Down in the lobby, Hater fished his phone out of his cloak. He dialed home, tapping his foot impatiently. "Come on, come on!"

"Yello?"

"Hey, it's me. This thing took forever."

"Hater!" The voice on the other end cracked with relief. "Hater, you're done? Really?"

Hater adjusted his grip on the suitcase. "Yeah, finally! You were right, I shoulda stayed home."

"Did you just say I was right about something?"

"I didn't stutter, Peepers."

"You just said I was right," Peepers sounded confused. "You feeling OK?"

"No," Hater said, very seriously. "Peepers, I need you to do something."

"What?"

"Gimme a kiss," Hater whispered. He bent down and kissed his Commander.

Very slowly, Peepers glanced up. The phone dropped from his hand. He stood still for a full ten seconds.

Hater winked at him. "Miss me?"

"Hater!" The word was a shrill squeak of happiness. Peepers ran to his arms, seizing Hater around the neck and holding on tight. "You...how?" The words came out muffled. "Oh, Hater!"

"Teleported. Couldn't keep my boy waiting could I?" Hater pulled Peepers in close. Under his fingers, the Watchdog snuggled down in the soft fabric near the cloak's hood. "So, is that a yes?" Hater chuckled. 

"Of course I missed you," Peepers murmured happily. He stroked the back of Hater's horn with one hand. Hater couldn't stop smiling. It was all right. He was home now. The welcome weight in his arms, and those featherlike caresses made the weeklong convention worthwhile. "You said one night," Peepers reminded him. "It's been a week."

Hater nuzzled him gently. "I know, buddy, I know. I didn't think it'd take this long. And it was so boring. Like, drop-dead boring. Your speeches are _way_ less painful."

Peepers leaned back until he could look into Hater's eyes. "You hate my presentations."

The skeleton pressed a quick kiss to the top eyelid. "Well, yeah, but I love you, and it gives me an extra excuse to look at you," Hater purred. "And let's be honest, you like to talk, and I like looking at my boy."

Peepers blushed. Hater grinned again. This was fun, seeing his Watchdog get flustered. Hater loved Peepers, and being able to tell him so meant more than he could ever say.

"You're just saying that so you won't have to sleep on the couch."

"Oh, yeah?" Hater rested his forehead to the lightning bolt helmet. "That's funny, because someone I love once mentioned the pros and precise method of verbal manipulation."

Peepers blinked, then started laughing. He peppered Hater's face in soft, sweet kisses that made the skeleton's heart swell. Hater kissed him back until they had to catch their breaths. Hater kicked the suitcase down to their bedroom, Peepers cradled in his arms.

"Don't let me go," Peepers begged.

"Never," Hater assured him. "Never ever, buddy, I'm not letting go. I've gotcha." Hater readjusted his grasp on Peepers, pulling him in even closer. "I'm tired of standing. Hatey wants cuddles."

Safe in the bedroom with the blankets up over their heads, Peepers snuggled against Hater. He burrowed down, his hands tracing the contours of Hater's ribs through the cloak. Hater was still smiling. He reached out a hand and rubbed the small eye. Peepers made a small noise of contentment. "I really, really missed you." Peepers spoke very quietly, still curled up on Hater's chest. "I'm so glad you're home."

Hater held onto him, running a finger over the smaller hand. "You worry too much," Hater said, but his voice was incredibly gentle. "Stupid convention was a bust, anyway. Long speeches. Long lines. Awful food. Like, beyond terrible."

Peepers struggled to get up. "You've gotta be starving!"

Hater caught his wrists, bringing them up nose to eye. "Take it easy, buddy. I'm not hungry. I had takeout. I'm fine."

Hater could see the skeptical glint in the Commander's eye. Before he could blink, Peepers wriggled loose and bolted off. Hater sighed and shook his head. Now he was in bed, he felt too lazy to get back up. Ten minutes later, Peepers hopped back into bed, a plate of nachos in both hands. Dripping in cheese, the smell made Hater's mouth water. The Watchdog beamed triumphantly.

Hater dove in. "Don't look so smug, Peepers," he said through a mouthful of olives. "I'm eating because it's here, not because I'm hungry!"

But they both knew he was lying. Peepers was a damn good cook. The chips had a satisfying crunch to them under a layer of melted cheese. Between bites of juicy tomato and tangy onion, Hater scowled affectionately at his Watchdog. "You're enjoying this."

"I like being right," Peepers teased him.

Hater swallowed. "And you're always right," he murmured.

Peepers tenderly wiped a dollop of sour cream off Hater's chin. The affectionate gesture made Hater's stomach flutter. "I'm so glad you're all right," Peepers told him, nuzzling Hater softly.

His heart softened as the Commander cuddled up to him. Their weeklong separation dissolved in a quiet moment as skeleton and Watchdog held onto each other.

"Stupid convention, a whole week wasted," Peepers grumbled under his breath. 

"Nah," Hater said around a contented yawn. "I'm back home with the man I love and some of the best dang nachos in the universe."

Peepers chuckled happily as Hater planted a soft kiss on his eyelid. "Welcome home, Hatey."


	9. Sticky Sweethearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Syrup is a great thing. Just don’t drink it.

“Hater!” Peepers’ frantic call echoed through the silent Skullship.

At half past four in the morning, the army was sleeping soundly in their bunks a few floors below. Peepers hadn’t slept. Hater never came to bed. He hadn’t come home.

“Hater, where are you?” Peepers muttered under his breath.

He crashed down the cell block, frantically checking each one. _No. No. No!_

He pounded back upstairs, passing the briefing hall. The massive TV screen was blank at this hour, but somebody was there. Peepers stared hard, straining to hear or see. Whoever it was was breathing raggedly. It almost sounded like…

“Hater!” Peepers heard himself scream as if from a long way off.

There he was! Slumped halfway down the throne and motionless. Peepers ran to him.

A horribly dark stain was splattered all over the glistening floor. His boots splashed in the sticky puddle, making his belly clench. Flat on his back, not moving, Hater didn’t react to Peepers’ anguished wails. Heart thudding painfully in his chest, Peepers desperately scanned Hater for injuries. Cuts or scrapes. Anything.  _Oh, Grop, please, please be OK!_ Peepers heaved a sigh of relief, almost choked by a sob. He was fine. Hater was totally fine.

“Hater!”

“Huh?”

It took a few seconds before Peepers realized his boyfriend had been asleep. Hater raised his head and blinked several times. “Peepers? Whoa!” Hater struggled to sit up, his arms quivering with the effort, and gave up. Peepers cradled his skull in both hands, holding him and trying to quiet his slamming heart. “I partied too hard,” Hater wheezed.

Too relieved to be angry, Peepers wiped a crown of confetti from Hater’s horns. “Of course you did.”

He grinned lopsidedly, and Peepers fought down a laugh. He looked ridiculous. “Have you been down here all night?!”

“Nah.” Hater barely stifled a burp.

“I thought you said you’d be back before eleven, party man,” Peepers said, gently running a finger across Hater’s jawbone.

“Just got in. Ugh, my stomach!” Hater doubled up, groaning.

Peepers huffed. “I was worried sick!” Hater tried to say something, but burped instead. Peepers gagged. “Ugh, you reek! What’ve you been doing?”

“Party,” Hater said, his face very serious. “Best party ever. It was awesome.”

Peepers raised his eyelid. “Oh, yeah? Worth not inviting me?”

“Don’t do that, it won’t work. Awesome was there,” Hater gurgled. “Didn’t want you to be picked on. He’s a jerk. I went for the waffles!”

Peepers had to blink as a wave of affection washed over him. “Oh, Hater! That’s so sweet. But you scared me half to death!”

His boot slipped a little in the dark, sticky stain dripping from Hater’s cloak and all over the floor.  _What the heck?_  Peepers wiped a bit off on his fingers and examined it. _Oh, gross!_

“Is this…?”

“Syrup,” Hater said, nodding seriously.

_Eugh. That’s gonna take forever to wash out._

Peepers tried to sound matter of fact. “Oh, right. Waffle party.”

Hater looked his boyfriend right in the eye. “Don’t _ever_ drink a whole bottle of syrup. It tastes good at first, but you’ll regret afterwards. Trust me. Bleh, my belly…”

He rubbed his stomach, groaning dramatically. Peepers started laughing. He couldn’t help it. The great and terrible Lord Hater, covered in syrup and groaning with bellyache. It was too rich. Shaking his eye, Peepers wiped the sticky residue off on his uniform. “How did you get back home?”

“Wander,” Hater burped.

_What a surprise._

Reminding himself to send a thank-you gift, Peepers heaved Hater up into his arms and carried him back to bed. The skeleton hummed under his breath as Peepers kicked the door to their bedroom open with a foot. “Why didn’t Wander bring you back here? Why sleep in the briefing hall?” Peepers couldn’t help asking.

“Thought you’d be mad,” Hater mumbled.

“Mad?!” Peepers rolled his eye. “Of course I’m mad! I was worried out of my mind!” Hater winced and looked away, embarrassed. Peepers swallowed, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “But that’s my job, I’m a worrier,” Peepers breathed, and nuzzled Hater under the jaw. “And I worry because I love you.”

Hater returned his nuzzle, and even covered in syrup, the raw affection made Peepers’ stomach flutter. “Love you, too, Peeps,” Hater told him. “Sorry to make you worry, buddy. Forgive me?”

Peepers kissed his bony cheek. “Of course I forgive you, stupid,” he teased. “But first things first. You need a bath, you’re all sticky.”

Keeping an eye on the skeleton, Peepers filled the bathtub with warm water and added a capful of bubbles. Hater grunted approvingly. “Hey, Peepers?”

Peepers tested the temperature with his finger. “Yeah?”

“Love you,” Hater said, pushing his forehead into Peepers’ shoulder.

Peepers closed his eye, enjoying the gentle pressure. _I’m so glad you’re OK._

The Commander kissed his cheek. “Come on, get in. You’re not coming to bed smelling like waffles.”

Hater snorted as he wriggled out of his cloak and sank into the bubbles. Peepers sat on the edge of the tub, scrubbing brush in hand. “I hate to tell you, babe, but nobody chugs a whole bottle of syrup,” Peepers said as he spread soap on the bony back. “It takes a special kind of idiot to do that.”

_And you’re my idiot._

“It wasn’t any old syrup,” Hater said indignantly. He lifted an arm, allowing Peepers to scour his ribs. “It was a weird of berry flavor, bingle-licious, something like that.”

“Was it worth it?” Peepers asked, smirking.

He could guess the answer.  _Bingleberry syrup? Nasty._

“No,” Hater admitted. “Don’t look so smug, it seemed like a good idea!”

Warmth flooded the Watchdog’s heart. What did it matter? Hater was home safe, and sticky or not, his love for the skeleton always won out in the end. Peepers pressed his eye to Hater’s forehead, his anger and worry dissolving.“What am I gonna do with you?” he asked, half-laughing.

Hater must’ve noticed the change in his tone. His green eyes softened, and he rubbed Peepers’ neck with a soapy hand.“How 'bout a kiss?”

Peepers felt himself go red. He gave Hater a quick peck before draining the tub. “Come on,” Peepers giggled, “bedtime.”

He wrapped Hater up in a soft,fluffy towel, giving his man a tight squeeze. Hater returned the pressure, growling affectionately. Peepers helped Hater dry off and into a new cloak. The Watchdog bundled the old, sticky robe into the hamper as Hater brushed his teeth. Peepers peeled the covers back so Hater could slip into bed. The skeleton sighed, laying his head on one of the over-fluffed pillows. 

 _That’s my boy_. Very carefully, the Watchdog tucked the blanket under Hater’s chin. He even secured the edges under the mattress.  _Just to be safe. He’s not going anywhere._

Peepers yawned, covering his retina with a hand. “Oh, Grop, it’s late. OK, big fella. Let’s get some sleep.”

The second the Commander was in bed, Hater pulled him into a hug. Peepers snuggled into the embrace, holding Hater tightly. “I’m so glad you’re home safe,” Peepers whispered against Hater’s chest.

As gently as he could, he kissed Hater. The smell of syrup was still on the bony mouth.

“Love you, Peeps,” Hater murmured, and kissed him back. They settled into a warm, sleepy silence, still holding each other. “Hey, Peepers,” Hater said suddenly, “Can we not have waffles for, like, the next year or so? Ugh, I’m sick of syrup.”

Peepers smiled. “Good idea. Let’s try cereal. It’s safer. Sweet dreams, babe.”

He closed his eye, and drifted off, wrapped in a tight embrace with the sweetest piece of his life. His Hater.


	10. The Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hater remembers and Peepers forgets.

Sleeping late was a new experience. Peepers had a very strict morning schedule. 7:00 a.m. each morning on the dot he got up, showered, got dressed, kissed Hater, and went on his way.

But not today.

The alarm went off, but not his. His alarm wasn’t a rock 'n roll cover of Hater’s theme song. Peepers preferred to wake up to his own theme music, played on a digital mix.

Peepers groaned, shoving his eye back under the pillow. “Hater,” he muttered. “Turn it off!” No reply. Peepers groaned louder. “Hater!”

Still nothing. Peepers kicked out, rumpling empty sheets on Hater’s side of the bed. _What in the-?_

Peepers stared groggily down at the abandoned bed. He hit the snooze button, then yelped. “Ten a.m.?!”

No doubt about it. He’d overslept. For the first time ever. And if Hater was gone, this was sabotage.

“When I find him!” Peepers muttered angrily.

He showered quickly, grumbling under his breath. Peepers was still sudsy when he dried himself off. “He let me sleep in and he knows how much I hate that!” Peepers growled, pulling on his boots. “I’ll never forgive him for this! Where’s my helmet?”

Angrily, he stomped over to the bed and found it by the door. As he rolled it over, a small scrap of paper fell out. Peepers picked it up.

_C. Peeps,_

_I’ll be in the briefing hall. Hope you slept well._

_Love,_

_Lord Hater #1 Superstar_

The note was small, barely six inches square. The handwriting unmistakably Hater’s. (Who else would’ve doodled a skeleton head?) Even so, Peepers had to smile. This little token of affection made all the difference. Folding it carefully into his back pocket, Peepers ran down to the briefing hall. The Skullship was completely deserted. Not a single Watchdog was anywhere to be seen.  _Figures_ , he thought bitterly. _I sleep in one time, and they’ve all gone AWOL._

The briefing hall was unusually dark. Peepers strained to see. No good. “Hater?” he called tentatively into the darkness.

The room lit up like a Yuletidean tree. Peepers yelped at the roar of sound. Instinctively, he threw a punch at the closest person.

Clunk. The Watchdog’s fist slammed into something hard.

Bone.

“Jeez, Peeps, I knew you’d be angry, but this seems a little extreme,” Hater said dryly.

Peepers rung his smarting fist in the air. “That stupid…you bony…”

“Surprise!”

Every Watchdog on the Skullship was packed into the room. Handfuls of purple and red confetti drifted over the cheering crowd.

Peepers could only gape.“What the…h-how did you?” he asked.

Hater just laughed. He swept Peepers up in a wonderfully soft hug, kissing his helmet. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

Caught up in the moment, Peepers snuggled down comfortably in Hater’s arms. “What is all this? It’s not my birthday!”

Hater couldn’t stop laughing. He spun in a circle, his cheek pressed lightly against Peepers’ shoulder. “Ten flarpin’ years and you don’t remember?”

The Watchdogs started to laugh, too. A few looked genuinely surprised their Commander hadn’t remembered whatever this was about. Peepers felt his eye go red. He was usually so on top of things. He was the one who remembered everything. How many times has he been forced to remind Hater of upcoming Watchdog birthdays?

“It’s ten years to the day since all this became a thing,” Hater nodded to the waving troops. “Ten years of nothing but conquering planets, baby boy!” He tossed Peepers up in the air, catching him before he fell. “Ten years since-”

“-I put on the helmet,” Peepers finished in a whisper.

Hater nodded, his smile melting the Commander’s heart. “Guess there’s a first time for everything,” Hater joked. “I remembered something you didn’t.”

Peepers tried to laugh, but couldn’t. Guilt rumbled uncomfortably in his belly. “Hater, I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I should’ve remembered.”

Hater stopped laughing. He held his Watchdog close. Peepers burrowed deep in the safety of Hater’s cloak, seeking warmth and reassurance. The Commander shut his eye, trying to hide from the accusing eyes of their troops.

Fortunately, Hater understood. “Give us a second, guys,” he told them. He carried Peepers out into the hall, but stopped in the doorway. “And save me some cake!”

As the door hissed shut behind them, Hater leaned against the wall and slid down into a sitting position. He drew his knees up to his chest and made soft shushing sounds, stroking Peepers gently. The Commander relied on Hater’s bulk to shield him as he composed himself. “Hater, I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “Ten years and I totally forgot! I’m such an idiot!”

Hater redoubled his grasp on his boyfriend. “Buddy, buddy, don’t say that! It’s OK, it’s all gonna be all right,” Hater soothed. “Peepers, I didn’t let you remember! I wanted it to be a surprise! You didn’t forget! I promise, buddy, this was all me!”

Peepers could hear the truth in his voice. He snuggled against Hater’s collarbone, taking deep, slow breaths. “You let me sleep in and wrote me that wonderful note, but I should’ve done something for you!”

Hater kissed him. “You put up with me. Isn’t that enough?”

Laughter bubbled up from inside Peepers’ chest. The most memorable moments of their decade together played out in his head. Obsessively trying to stop Wander. Playing with strategic figurines. Chasing Andy and Bean away from their bedroom. Playing tennis and torturing enemies.

And, of course, the time spent as a couple. Constant cuddles, soft kisses, and the warmth of being with the man he loved more than anything else.

Peepers hugged him, holding on tight. “I love you, big guy.”

Hater nuzzled his Commander. The skeleton’s gentleness was only for his Peepers. Nobody else got this much attention. Except Tim. “Love you, too,” he rumbled. “C'mon, Peeps, let’s go get some cake. It’s marble!”

Peepers smiled at his troops as Hater carried him back into the briefing hall. “Ten years. Kind of a big deal. Let’s try and have some fun, huh?”

Hater punched the air, one arm still hugging his man. “Whoo! Party!”

Once everyone was full of cake, the DJ lit up the dance floor. Hater wasn’t about to sit this out. Peepers swallowed his nervousness and did his best to keep up. Neon lights flashed as the army rocked out. Completely out of breath, they sat on the edge of the dance floor. Peepers rested comfortably in Hater’s arms. They shared a cup of soda. Hater’s preferred brand. Non-diet.

Someone hoisted a piñata up, a small Skullship. Andy swung at it and missed spectacularly. Snug in Hater’s arms, Peepers laughed.

Hater eyed him affectionately. “Wanna give it a shot?”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Peepers elbowed him playfully. “You’re the tallest one here, no contest. Let 'em have this.”

Hater flicked the helmet down over Peepers’ eye. “Who said it was gonna be me?” 

He scooped Peepers up, and Peepers knocked the piñata down easily. The cheering Watchdogs eagerly divided the candy inside. Peepers rested his eye on Hater’s shoulder. A soft yawn escaped him.

Hater noticed. “Tired, baby boy?”

“Mmm, lil bit,” Peepers mumbled contentedly. “I’m fine, really.”

Hater smiled. He peeled off the helmet and set it aside. “Get some sleep, buddy.”

Peepers curled up on his chest, and drifted off to sleep, lulled by Hater’s familiar warmth filling his heart with happiness.


	11. The Pick-Me-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick ficlet I wrote for @sargentnicole on Tumblr for the SaveWOY gift exchange back in January!

The door hissed open. Hater didn’t turn around. It could only be Peepers. No question. Nobody else came barging into his room without knocking.

Hater called over his shoulder, eyes glued to his video game. “Hey, Peepers.”

Peepers collapsed on the bed, facing away from him. Hater stopped playing. _That_ got his attention. Peepers was usually all over him at the end of a workday. Nothing was more welcome than a few dozen kisses and a warm cuddle.

“What, no kiss?” Hater teased him.

Grimacing sourly, Peepers rounded on him. Hater’s mouth fell open. “Whoa! Peepers, you look _terrible_.”

Peepers eyed him coldly. “Gee, thanks, babe,” he said sarcastically. He sat down on the bed, rubbing the shadowlike bruises under his lids. He always had dark circles under his eye. But not like this.

Hater winced.  _Grop_ ,  _he_  does _look awful._

Bent almost double, shoulders weighed down by incompetence and responsibility. He looked utterly run down. Flat-out exhausted. Running the Skullship was a full-time job. And nobody did it better than Peepers.

Hater paused the game. “What’s up?” he asked. His voice softened.

Peepers didn’t reply. Placing the controller to one side, Hater reached for his hand. Their fingers meshed. Hater gave his hand a squeeze. The Watchdog smiled without opening his eye.

Hater rested his chin on the helmet. “Bad day, huh, buddy?”

“The worst,” Peepers grunted.

Hater wrapped a protective arm around Peepers, enfolding him in a tight embrace. Peepers heaved gusty sigh. Very gently, Hater eased the helmet off. He kneaded at the knots tangled in the small shoulders. Peepers snuggled against him. Hater dug a little deeper, working his thumbs in small, tight circles. Hater needed an idea. And fast. It killed him to see Peepers so uptight. He was a walking bundle of nerves already.

Hater knew Peepers better than anyone. His likes. Dislikes. And just how to cheer him up.

“C’mon, Peeps,” Hater said. Peepers eyed him skeptically. “Trust me.” Hater smiled broadly.

Peepers sighed dramatically, but allowed Hater to carry him to the kitchen. “Fine.”

“Who wants brownies?” Hater asked, and Peepers beamed.

Together, they poured and mixed and made a wonderful mess in the kitchen. Peepers started to relax. He even let Hater lick the spoon. The brownies were hot and gooey. Real fudge ones.

Hater dug a carton of ice cream out of the freezer. “Sundaes,” he said, his mouth packed full of brownie.

Peepers affectionately rolled his eye.

Back in the bedroom, they curled up together. Between bites of brownie, they listened to classical music and watched horribly cheesy movies. The rest of the evening was full of tender kisses and soft cuddles. Peepers burrowed against Hater’s side, smiling contentedly.

Hater chuckled. _It worked!_

After five movies, they called it a night. It was time for bed. Full of ice cream and brownies and utterly relaxed, Hater hit the lights, plunging the room into darkness. Peepers suddenly kissed his cheek. Hater blinked in surprise.

The Watchdog nuzzled his collarbone. “Thanks,” Peepers whispered.

“Anything for you, baby boy,” Hater murmured, his face hot. “I love you, Peepers.”

“Love you, too, Hater,” Peepers whispered into the darkness. “I love you, too.”


	12. Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another SaveWOY Gift Exchange fic I wrote, this time for @ letyepetyelepetye on Tumblr!

The bedroom door opened. Hater wasn’t really asleep. He’d only just hit the lights. But still. Someone was gonna _pay_ for barging into his room and…

A tiny hand brushed his shoulder. “What?” Hater grunted irritably.

“It’s me,” someone whispered.

Hater propped himself up on an elbow. “Peepers?”

He blinked sleepily. It _was_ Peepers. Still in his day clothes and holding a plate of cookies. “Thought you might be hungry,” Peepers said. “Big day today.”

Hater immediately brightened up. “You remembered!”

“How could I forget?” Peepers asked. “One-year anniversary of saving the galaxy. Happy Anniversary.”

“Yeah,” Hater said. “You, too.”

The cookies smelled amazing. Peepers passed him the biggest cookie. Hater devoured it in two swift mouthfuls. He closed his eyes and slumped back with a satisfied grunt, savoring every delectable morsel. “Oh, that was good.”

Peepers smiled sheepishly. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

They demolished the remaining cookies. It took all of five minutes. “Did…did you stay up all night to make these?” Hater asked, his mouth still full.

The Watchdog shrugged. “Kinda.”

“What’s up, Peepers?” Crumbs flew everywhere as Hater coughed. “Couldn’t you sleep?”

Peepers shook his head. Hater squinted at the bedside alarm clock. Half past two.  _Not like him to be up so late._ Hater covered his eyes with a hand and mumbled, “Why don’t you crash in here tonight?”

Peepers blinked, confused. “You mean it?”

Hater's cheeks went bright green. “On-only if you wanna.”

Peepers nodded, touched. “I’d like that.”

“C’mon, then,” Hater grunted, trying to hide his pleasure.

Peepers scrambled into bed. Hater lifted an arm, but Peepers didn’t come any closer. The Watchdog curled up on the opposite side of the bed, his back to his boss. Hater was disappointed to see Peepers so far away.

“Does it always get this cold in here?”

A second later, Hater realized he was shivering. “Yeah. I get hot easy. Why don’t you come here? We can cuddle…” Hater coughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “I mean…just get over here, will you?”

Hater smiled a little when the Commander hesitated. “I don’t bite, Peepers.”

A massive hand wrapped around the Watchdog’s waist, pulling him in close. Peepers blinked in surprise, but didn’t stop him. Very cautiously, Peepers curled against Hater’s side. Their chests were inches apart. Hater felt his face get hot. He cleared his throat, hastily fluffing the pillow behind his head. Peepers was still trembling. Hater could feel his own knees knocking. But not from cold.

More and more lately, he’d been having…urges. Urges to be close to Peepers, to spend as much time with him as possible. It was a feeling he knew well. It had haunted him for months as he chased Dominator.

Hater had a crush on his best friend.

Again, Peepers shuddered. Hater adjusted the covers, pulling them tighter around the Watchdog’s skinny body. “Don’t want you getting cold,” he rumbled, tucking the edges in more securely.

Peepers snuggled against his side, a noticeable flush creeping across his eye. Hater fought to conceal his delight. They rested against each other, their heads on the same pillow. 

“Thank you,” Peepers whispered. And he planted a soft, shaky kiss on Hater’s cheek.

The skeleton’s mouth fell open.

Peepers instantly went brick-red. “Drop, I’m so sorry!”

Hater lifted that big red eye. Their gazes locked. “S-sorry,” Peepers whispered.

“No,” Hater murmured. “No, don’t be.” He cupped Peepers’ eye in one hand. Peepers shivered, but didn’t draw back.

Had Peepers always been so cute?

The urge to kiss him was overpowering. Butterflies fluttered crazily in Hater’s marrow. He had to do this. Now. Before his nerve failed him. Right now.

Shaking slightly, Hater lowered his head and kissed the Watchdog. Peepers squeaked. For a second, Hater was terrified he would take off. Instead, Peepers nuzzled him cautiously under the jaw. It was a little awkward.

But good Grop, did it feel nice.

Breathing hard, Peepers hugged him around the neck. “I wanted to do that for a long time.”

“I’m glad you did,” Hater admitted.

“R-really?”

“Yeah,” Hater mumbled. “I think I’m in love with you, Peepers.”

Peepers looked away.

Hater started to panic.  _Great. Me and my big mouth! My best friend and I just told him I love him! He hates me! I know it. He hates me and he’s totally gonna-_

“I love you, too,” Peepers whispered against his cheek.

“Wait, what?” Hater stared at him. “Really?!”

His face was burning. _Grop, of all times to blush!_

But Peepers didn’t seem to notice. He was flushing, too. Going a wonderful scarlet that really brought out the color of his iris. “Yeah,” Peepers confessed. He looked at the ground and shuffled his feet, embarrassed.

But he was smiling.

Grinning crookedly, Hater pulled the Watchdog into a tight hug. Peepers curled up on his collarbone, laughing. Hater closed his eyes, enjoying the warm weight pressed against his left cheek. _I could get used to this._

“So, are we, like, dating now?” Hater whispered.

“I…I guess so,” Peepers whispered back. “Is that OK?”

“It’s great,” Hater assured him, and gave his new boyfriend another kiss.


End file.
